


Unbreakable

by Cybertronian



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Obi-Wan Needs a Hug, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 19:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14837372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cybertronian/pseuds/Cybertronian
Summary: Obi-Wan just wanted to rest.





	Unbreakable

The windswept dunes of Tatooine were dark waves of gray, dreary nothingness. The sky was equally dismal and lifeless, pale and muted when the suns burned dim at noonday. When the inky blanket of night descended on the cold, cold desert, the stars and moon never shined.

Obi-Wan remembered when he first visited this planet so many years ago. Back then, he could see the dazzling sunlight reflecting on the sand, feel the intense warmth.

But, now, a month after the fall of the Republic, he didn’t feel much of anything anymore. His new world was one of colorless emptiness. He was merely a shadow, a lone remnant of an era now gone forever, drifting though a terrible abyss of pain and loneliness.

His Master attempted to commune with him as he settled into his new home, but he didn’t have the willpower to answer back. Most days, Obi-Wan would sit on the craggy hilltop and stare vacantly across the desert, numb to everything that surrounded him. He just wanted to rest his weary body in the dirt until his eyes grew heavy and he slipped into the embrace of sleep, hopefully forever. Maybe one time, he’d be lucky enough to become one with the Force and leave his nightmares and this dusty world behind.

 He’d been plagued with bad dreams ever since his beloved Master died, but now they were worse than ever. Every night, he suffered through visions filled with nondescript agony and violence, torturous imaginations that would leave him thrashing around. When he finally woke, the horrors would linger, swimming in the darkness around him as he lay there, soaked in sweat and praying for it to pass.

All throughout the day, he saw the faces of his loved ones in his mind as if the gruesome dreams weren’t enough. Qui-Gon’s corpse in his arms. The life fading from Satine’s eyes. The countless Jedi and Clones dying around him during the war. Anakin’s screams of agony. Padmé taking her last breath.

He tried to think of other things. He _desperately_ reached deep into his mind to remember the good times when he would meditate in the Temple or look on with pride as Anakin mastered his training. He tried to remember Ahsoka’s infectious personality, Commander Cody…

But, it was never enough to heal.

He was alone. He had failed. Nearly everyone he knew was _dead._

One evening, the pain was so overwhelming; he slid off his eopie and collapsed into the sand, tears trailing down his sunburnt cheeks.

“Oh, Force… _why?”_ he sobbed, grabbing at his messy hair. “Why?”

 He had been trained to control his emotions and master his thoughts, but some days, it was too much. He couldn’t suppress his grief any longer.

 For a moment, everything went silent and all he could feel was the weight of the lightsaber clipped to his belt. He could sense the Kyber crystal within its core, thrumming with power.

 Obi-Wan was drowning in never-ending despair, unable to pull himself up no matter how hard he tried. The thought of carrying on like this for years on end was unbearable.

 And now, he unclipped the lightsaber, the weapon that had saved his life on so many occasions, and held it in his trembling hand.

 “Obi-Wan.”

 Qui-Gon’s voice spoke to him, soft as the breeze that stirred the sand.

 Obi-Wan tightened his grip on the lightsaber, but he didn’t ignore his Master. This time, perhaps out of a final attempt at comfort, he answered back.

 “Master,” he said faintly. “I can’t live like this.”

 “Don’t give up, my dear Obi-Wan. The boy needs you more than you know. The Force has a great destiny for both of you.”

 “Why me?” Obi-Wan said, his tears falling into the sand as he hung his head. “I—I failed. I promised you that I’d train Anakin. You trusted me with him and I failed...” Obi-Wan broke off, squeezing his eyes closed as scenes of Mustafar invaded his mind.

 “You’re a good person with much to offer,” Qui-Gon said. “Brave, strong, and infinitely kind. So full of heart.”

 Obi-Wan turned the lightsaber over in his hands, running his fingers along the metal. And then he finally started to spill his deepest troubles and fears, telling Qui-Gon things he wished he could’ve voiced a long time ago.

 “I never recovered from your death. And then the war…Duchess Satine…things kept piling on.” Obi-Wan paused and took a deep breath. “I always carried on after every tragedy, but sometimes…sometimes I just want to rest. I feel…” He went silent, his heart clenching.

 “What do you feel?”

 “Sadness. Guilt,” Obi-Wan answered truthfully, his voice shaking a little bit. He was ashamed of his unrestrained emotions, but he didn’t feel any judgment from Qui-Gon. “You would have made a far better teacher for Anakin. You were the one who deserved to walk away from that fight on Naboo, not me. I’ve failed so many people.”

 “No, Obi-Wan. You’ve always done the best you could,” Qui-Gon said gently. “But, I understand your hurt. I’ll be with you every step of the way from now on. We’ll work through this together, always looking to the future.”

 Obi-Wan opened his eyes and gazed across the barren landscape where the suns were dipping below the horizon. The sky was a beautiful, deep, fiery orange. He blinked back tears as the warmth bathed his face and a rare feeling of peace flowed through him. Not enough to drive away the deep heartache and heal his broken soul, but enough to make him think that maybe, _maybe_ things would get better.

 “Is there hope?” he asked.

 “Always,” Qui-Gon said.


End file.
